


Necessity

by Shinatobe



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: endgame spoilers, like seriously if you haven't finished sdr2 don't even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinatobe/pseuds/Shinatobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard being needed but not wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessity

**Author's Note:**

> ahahahaha i made myself sad

Sometimes, when he was neck deep in his work, tinkering and fiddling and muttering under his breath, he could forget.

He could focus on the task at hand, reading through every scrap of notes that he's made, every sketch every scribble. His hands would be busy touching each page and each indention of the pods themselves, hearing them whir quietly in the emptiness of the sleeping room. He would quiet his nervous thoughts and just feel the machinery, almost confidently taking apart the already opened pod that he himself had rested in not too long ago. When he looked at the pieces and discovered something new, he could feel a budding hope in his chest as he ran to the others to tell them the news. They'd smile brightly and hang on every word of his, like he was their closest friend telling a great, great story.

And he could forget for a little while there.

But, most of the time, it was too quiet, or too loud. He'd hear one of them come into the room and kneel by the pod of their friend...more than friend really. Much more than that. He knew that much, as Sonia cried quietly over the sleeping Tanaka's capsule. She'd whimper and beg him to wake up, plead to him and give so many promises for when he did.

He knew it was best to become invisible at that point.

He'd stop his work and crouch lower, letting himself blend in with his surroundings as each of them, day by day, would visit their closest companion. Some would cry, some would laugh weakly in an attempt at feeling normalcy and talking to their slumbering bodies. Others would just sit in the quiet, running their hands over the warm glass that seperated the living from the....not so much. But no matter what, it would always end with a similar phrase. "I'll be waiting for when you wake up." "You hurry up now, I don't have time to wait around for ya." "Just wait till you wake up, there's so much to do." "Please, come back to me."

He'd gotten so used to holding his tears back that he wouldn't even notice the blurring lines in front of him till it dripped down onto his working hands. Then he'd have to stop, letting the silent sobs wrack his body as he curled up on the much colder tiled floor. Once he'd cried as much as he could, he'd return to work. And none were the wiser. The cycle would continue, and he'd feel that small warmth in his chest as they listened to him intently. But the cold of the lab would curl up inside him and stay there, reminding him day in and day out

_It's hard to be needed, but not wanted._

_  
_He knew, even as he shared his new findings, that he was just a middleman for what they really sought. That each of them had someone waiting to be woken up, to hold and never let go of from then on. They would wait and wait and wait, as long as they thought it would take. They were the hope of course, it's not like they could give up.

But no one was waiting for him.

And as he grew closer and closer to waking the students, he felt a painful dark curling in his gut as he imagined what was to come. 

The students wake up. Everyone is ecstatic, hugging and kissing and crying with their loved friends, gaining back the time that they lost and squeezing them oh so tight. The room would be full of light now, from the flourescents above instead of the steady glow of the pods themselves as they are now. Smiles on face, as well as tears, and it would be..beautiful. And he, the little mechanic, would fade into the background and watch. He'd do his best to hold back his own tears, and he'd fail spectacularly. So he'd have to leave the room, and let the ocean air embrace him as he sobbed.

Distracted by each other, no one would notice him leave. No one would mind. As he sat in the sand and cried his eyes out, so happy yet so sad that it had to be this way. He'd lived out his usefullness, so what could he do now? 

It was on those days when he thought those dark thoughts, that he hoped the pods would never open.


End file.
